


Meaning of Life Stuff

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:18:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No regrets?” Jack asked. “Beyond the fall-out from running way like eloping teenagers, I mean.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meaning of Life Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Written to paian's prompt at the fic_promptly comm: Jack/Daniel, first dance at their own wedding (song choice is author's choice)

"You’re thinking,” Jack said, making it sound like a bad thing.

Daniel smiled. “I do that, don’t I?”

Jack smiled back. “Yes, you do. Sometimes it’s good thinking, sometimes it’s bad thinking. This is?”

“Good thinking.”

“Good.”

“Although ...”

“Ahh. The but, the and, the or.” Jack raised his coffee mug and took a healthy glug. The diner’s coffee was surprisingly good and the apple pie had been even better. They were on course for returning the hire car to Logan on time so they could afford a decent break before they hit the road again. They’d made good time from Cape Cod.

“They’re going to be pissed.” Daniel peered into the depths of his empty mug.

“Yeah. Mitchell _so_ wanted to buy a hat.”

Daniel laughed but the sound bore an edge of something that sounded suspiciously like guilt. “They’re our friends,” he said, pointedly.

“Daniel, we agreed. No fuss. No big cake or speeches.”

“And we’ll have no friends when they find out. God, Sam’s going to kill me.” Daniel’s head met the table as he thumped it gently by way of penance.

Jack looked around the diner. It was heading for 10 p.m. It was a Tuesday and it had been raining for the past two hours. They were the only customers. The waitress, Marion, according to her name tag, was leafing through a celebrity magazine while the juke box in the corner played Jackie Wilson. It was safe. Jack reached across and ruffled Daniel hair. He loved the feel of the soft strands beneath his fingers and the curve of his skull, the way it fitted to his hand. He’d been able to shuck the back of Daniel’s head when he wasn’t allowed to touch anything else. It sent a delicious thrill of memory through his whole body. He’d always loved to touch him.

“Carter will be fine. She’s never been able to stay mad at you for long. Me, now, that’s a whole other matter. The intercom from the Hammond will be red hot.” Jack grimaced. A pissed off Carter was scary.

Marion walked up to their table by the window with no view to speak of and refilled their mugs. Middle-aged, with auburn hair swept up into a bun, she reminded Jack of Marion Cunningham from _Happy Days._ Or maybe that was just the diner. Old-fashioned best described it. The music on the juke box hadn’t progressed past the 60s so far.

Daniel smiled up at Marion. He looked happy, as relaxed as Jack had seen him in a long time. Daniel wrapped his hands around the mug and his smiled widened as the fingers of his right hand touched the ring on his left. He looked at it in a kind of wonder, the kind that Jack recognized from their early days. _Meaning of life stuff._ Yeah.

“It looks good,” Jack said, waggling his left hand and its matching white gold band.

“Feels great,” Daniel said softly.

“No regrets?” Jack asked. “Beyond the fall-out from running way like eloping teenagers, I mean.”

“None. I’m very happy.”

Jack’s heart lurched just a little bit and he reached across the table and laid his hand on Daniel’s arm. “Me too. Thanks. For today. It’s been ...” He couldn’t find the right word. They’d waited so long, been through so much.

“Great,” Daniel finished for him, eyes soft, voice softer still.

Jack squeezed Daniel’s arm, remembering vows exchanged, promises made, smiles shared, along with the hastily wiped tears because Air Force Generals were tough and never sentimental. “Sorry there’s no honeymoon. I’m thinking Hawaii in the fall. Big drinks with little umbrellas, you in Speedos.”

Daniel choked on his coffee. “My Speedo days are long gone. I was thinking Europe; Venice, Rome, Paris, London.”

Jack grimaced. “We’d never be able to take all that time off. When we retire, though. The Grand Tour. I promise.”

Daniel smiled again. They’d both smiled a lot today. They couldn’t seem to stop. “You’ve made lots of promises today. I hope you intend to keep them all.”

“Every one. Same applies to you. I hope the fact that half of your vows were in ancient Egyptian doesn’t invalidate them.” It had stolen Jack’s breath, Daniel holding his hands, eyes bright with love, speaking the language of dead Pharaohs and the land he held so dear... _“I humbly give you my hand and my heart as I pledge my faith and love to you. Just as this ring I give you today is a circle without end, my love for you is eternal. Just as it is made of incorruptible substance, my commitment to you will never fail.”_

“You liked that?” Daniel looked a touch too pleased with himself.

“I _loved_ that. You know exactly what hearing you speak other languages does to me, let alone what the words meant. Think it did it for the celebrant, too. She went all ... mushy.”

Daniel threw his head back and laughed. Wasn’t that the most beautiful sound in the universe? Wasn’t he just the luckiest guy in that universe?

“She did not. She was definitely giving you the eye, though. Obviously has a thing for gray-haired younger guys.”

“She was advanced in years,” Jack had to agree. “Nice, though. Homely. I half expected her to hand us a batch of home-baked cookies in a wicker basket when we left, along with advice like ‘never let the sun set on an argument.’”

“Or, ‘remember, it’s all about give and take.’”

“It is,” Jack said. “You give and I take.”

Daniel peered at him over his glasses. “Not true. I think we’ve proved we’ve found a balance through the years.”

“I guess.”

They had. It had been a hard fought accommodation though. They’d never stop negotiating their way through the choppy emotional waters. Two men, too alike in some ways and way too different in others, but somehow they made it work.

The juke box was on automatic selection and Martha Reeves was singing _something inside burning when I’m with you,_ while the rain beat even harder on the diner window. Jack reveled in her soulful voice and watched the droplets chase each other down the glass. It had been a long, wonderful day and he felt tired. But he could sleep on the flight. They could hold hands beneath the blankets like lovelorn teenagers and blame it on the rush of being newlyweds. Jack grinned at the thought.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“Just thinking about misbehaving on the way home.”

“I am not joining the Mile High Club, Jack. You can’t swing a cat in those airline toilets. Speaking of which ...”

Jack nodded towards the back of the diner. “Over there.”

Daniel rose from the table. Jack watched him go, already feeling bereft of his company. Christ. He had to remind himself he was not 18. He should not be feeling this high on love. On the other hand, why the hell not? He mentally ran the day through again. It had been pretty much perfect, but there was one thing missing. One thing that would be the icing on an already delicious wedding cake.

He wandered up to the counter where Marion had just finished painting her nails Torino red.

“Quiet night, huh?” He said, drawing some bills from his pocket and dropping them on the counter.

“Yup. I hate nights like this. Shift seems to go on forever, you know?” She blew on the fanned out fingers of her left hand.

“When do you close?”

“Midnight. Joe, the owner, used to open all night but there’s no call during the week. Just weekends. I lost a few bucks but Andy, my old man, is glad. He misses me.”

Jack smiled at her. “You lock up?”

Marion looked hard at Jack, warm eyes turning wary. “You planning on robbing me?”

Jack raised his hands in apology. “No. No. It’s just ... We got married today.”

Marion grinned. “You did? That’s terrific. We got some great cake back here ...” She ducked out of sight and popped back up with some fancy cream confection, carefully holding the plate as her nails dried. “On the house.”

“That’s really kind, but what I was hoping was ... Daniel, that’s my ... husband,” _wow,_ “has always had this thing about wanting to dance in some club or restaurant when it’s closing time and the chairs are on the table and there’s no on around. You know the kind of thing.”

Obviously, Marion did. “That is so romantic.”

“Yeah.” Jack took a deliberate look around. “Empty diner, heading for closing time, first dance not quite at our wedding ...”

Marion’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god. Here?”

“What do you think? I mean, think of it as a wedding gift.”

Marion carefully cut the cake. “I think I’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do out back and a big slice of cake to eat. Should take a while. Also ... it’s dead around this place. No one else is coming in tonight, and if you won’t tell Joe then I won’t. I’ll get rid of Jerry, the chef. He’s probably asleep anyways.” She hurried to the door and turned over the closed sign. She pointed at the juke. “Want anything special?”

“Whatever comes. It’s all been good so far.”

Marion scuttered back to the counter and hit the light switches, leaving only a few to cast a surprisingly soft and intimate glow. “Joe doesn’t hold with modern music. Says it’s nothing but noise,” she said, proceeding to race around the restaurant, upturning chairs and stools and placing them on tables. “Perfect,” she said, satisfied. As Daniel reappeared, she pressed Jack’s arm and whispered, “Good luck,” before leaving through the staff door.

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks. “Um ...”

The juke box clicked and whirred and Billie Holiday’s unmistakable blues voice blended with the soft brushes and smoky sax on _It Had to be You._

Jack held out his arms. Daniel huffed an amazed, “What?” and raised his hand to the back of his head, the way he did when he was flummoxed. And he was definitely flummoxed, Jack was pleased to note.

“Wanna dance?”

Daniel shook his head, clearly disbelieving. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Oh my god,” before walking straight into Jack’s arms. Jack folded him in close, then let his hands find their own resting place, one going to Daniel’s waist, the other capturing Daniel’s right hand and snuggling it between them. Daniel tucked right in, nestling the side of his head against Jack’s.

They barely moved, just shifting slightly from foot to foot, turning as the mood took them, neither leading, simply finding their own way. Jack turned his head and placed a soft kiss in Daniel’s hair. God, he felt so warm and smelled so good. He’d married a beautiful man. His now, and soon everyone would know it.

Jack closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. It was so different to dancing with Sara at their wedding. It had been a big, Catholic affair with more relatives than he could count, all standing and watching as he and Sara swayed on the spot and tried hard not to be embarrassed at all the attention. She’d looked so young and beautiful and it had felt so right, so much like the start of forever. White lace and promises ... But this felt right, too, another chance at finding forever. He pulled Daniel closer still. From chest to groin they melded and flowed. So right – holding the man he loved, slow dancing on the day of their wedding. In Jack’s head, he sang along with Billie, never wanting her to stop. Wanting this precious moment to last.

To Jack’s delight, Daniel couldn’t get close enough, letting out a soft sound that seemed to say, _“We’ve made it. My god, after everything.”_

As the music faded, Jack kept holding.

“Don’t want to stop,” Daniel said, settling his head on Jack’s shoulder.

“Mmmmmm,” was all Jack could manage.

When they finally stilled, Daniel pulled back just far enough to place a gentle kiss on Jack’s mouth. “Thank you,” he whispered against Jack’s lips. Jack smiled, still feeling the full softness of Daniel’s lips on his.

Over Daniel’s shoulder, Jack saw Marion open the door a little way and peek through the crack. As they pulled apart, she opened it wider and gave a thumbs-up. The juke box started to play something by Louis Armstrong, jazzy, complex and upbeat.

“Guess we should hit the road,” Jack said, running his hands up Daniel’s arms, longing to feel skin rather than cotton.

“I think I’m ready to face Sam now,” Daniel said, smiling.

“That’s the spirit,” Jack laughed, giving Daniel’s shoulders a last squeeze before letting go.

As they gathered up their stuff, Jack winked at Marion, who had slipped quietly back into the room.

When they reached the door, Daniel pulled Jack to a halt, kissed him on the cheek and said, “It was perfect, Jack.”

That was meaning of life stuff, right there.

  
ends  


  



End file.
